


playtime, daddy

by matskreider



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Consensual Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 22:09:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10448640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matskreider/pseuds/matskreider
Summary: “Such a good boy, Marc,” Hank praises, knowing what a struggle it was for the defenseman to not act on his desires. “Think you can take all of me?”The younger of the two pulls off to take a breath, panting slightly. “Yeah,” he replies, his voice well on it’s way to being wrecked.“Yes what?” Hank growls, pulling Marc’s hair sharply.Marc moans, his eyes welling up with tears of the good kind. “Y-yes, Daddy...”(hank is marc's daddy; marc is hank's brat)





	

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place sometime in the past week, due to timely references to playoff standings, Hank's injury, and real time games. But that in all honesty plays a minor role. 
> 
> I'm assuming that, by virtue of being professional athletes, they've had all their shots and gotten tested for everything and everyone is 100% clean of anything not so fun. I'm also assuming that this is a relationship and kink that has been talked about before the content of this story. 
> 
> This is a work of fiction and is not intended to reflect the actual relationships of the individuals referenced inside the story. If you know any of these people/are any of these people, you might want to turn back now.
> 
> But lets be honest, this is just the finished version of a pwp that I started on my phone at around 2am last week sometime, so...do with that what you will.

Marc kneels on the floor of their bedroom, his discarded clothing folded just the way Henrik likes it: up and out of the way on the dresser. He waits with bated breath as he hears the footsteps marking Hank’s approach. The bedroom door opens, then closes, and then he can feel Hank’s gaze on him.

He tries not to squirm, but isn’t sure he succeeds.

There’s a hand in his hair, running through the thick locks. That grip gently pulls his head back, letting him look up.

Hank stands before him, in jeans but bare chested. He looks down at Marc like he’s something to be treasured, consumed, devoured and _broken_. Marc’s tongue flicks out to wet his lips in anticipation.

He’s entirely focused on the bulge offered in front of him. His fingers twitch against his thighs, itching to touch, but he knows he can’t unless Hank says something.

So he struggles to be good, and then Hank’s hand is sliding from his hair. He briefly grips Marc’s jaw, telling him to stay still. Marc obeys, but watches as Hank undoes his belt, then his jeans, and _fuck,_ he’s been commando this whole time.

Hank strokes his cock a few times, just to tease Marc, before rubbing his tip against his wet lips. Marc opens his mouth, needing to feel Hank on his tongue sooner rather than later.

“It’s okay, älskling,” Hank murmurs. “Do what you need to do, what I know you want so badly.”

That’s permission enough for Marc. He leans forward, licking around the tip first, before taking as much of him into his mouth as possible. He uses his tongue against the underside, rubbing the flat of it up under the tip as much as possible, knowing what Hank likes.

Something about giving head always worked Marc up like nothing else. His own cock stands at attention between his thighs, and he struggles not to touch himself. To try to get his mind off of his own arousal, he pushes himself just a little bit more.

“Such a good boy, Marc,” Hank praises, knowing what a struggle it was for the defenseman to not act on his desires. “Think you can take all of me?”

The younger of the two pulls off to take a breath, panting slightly. “Yeah,” he replies, his voice well on it’s way to being wrecked.

“Yes what?” Hank growls, pulling Marc’s hair sharply.

Marc moans, his eyes welling up with tears of the good kind. “Y-yes, Daddy...”

Hank lets him go, and Marc leans forward again, taking in as much of him as possible. Bit by bit, he makes his way down to the base, his nose brushing the trimmed hair there.

Marc looks up at Henrik, throat working to keep swallowing past his gag reflex. Hank's hand gently cups his jaw, his thumb tracing over his stretched lips, as he gently shushes him, calling him his good boy, letting him know he did a good job.

Marc's body fills with anticipation and desire at the words, but the shushing cools the flames to a languid, warm desire. He still aches to be filled, the plug in him doing nothing but keeping him unsatisfied, the heavy feeling between his thighs slipping to the back of his mind. He swallows again, blinking back tears as he works his tongue along the bottom of Hank's length.

There's a pinch to his earlobe, and he stops obediently. The gentle shushing continues, and his eyes flutter shut at the praise. Tears slip down his face, Hank's thumb wiping them away. 

"You've been so good, älskling, so good for me. Just let go, I've got you." 

Marc knows what this means, and doesn't tense at the first rock of Hank's hips. He's content to be used in such a way, just for Hank, only for Hank; for him to take his pleasure from him, to coat his throat with his cum, to give him that sensation, was a gift in and of itself. 

But for now he's quiet, head held still by the hand buried in his hair, Hank's nimble fingers squeezing at the ginger strands. All too soon Hank pulls back, leaving Marc's throat empty.

He doesn't move, save for a breathless whimper at being left empty. He hears Hank click his tongue, perhaps in disapproval, perhaps in approval, but it doesn't matter because the wet head of Hank's cock smears its precum along his lower lip, efficiently distracting him. 

He sticks his tongue out, trying to get Hank to slip back into his mouth. He _wants_ that feeling again, to be so full, and being without is beginning to cause some distress. When Hank pulls fully away, he whimpers again, and feels Hank pull at his hair in reprimand.

“You need something?” he murmurs, and Marc looks up with tearful eyes, nodding earnestly. “Well, what is it?”

“You, Daddy,” Marc replies, his voice hoarse from the rough treatment of his throat. “Please, feel so empty, please…”

He stops himself from begging further when Henrik pulls at his hair again, stilling him. “You want me in your mouth again? Or do you want me to fuck that tight ass of yours?” he practically purrs.

Marc’s heart picks up double time at the second option and nods again. “Fuck me, please Daddy…”

“Lay on the bed, face down, hands over your head.”

He scrambles to follow the direction, laying with his knees bent and legs spread, curving his back to show off his ass. Stretching out until his fingertips brush the headboard, he turns his head so his cheek rests on the pillows beneath him. His heavy cock hangs between his legs, and he jumps a bit when he feels Hank’s fingers trailing up the underside, teasingly light.

“Such a pretty picture…” Hank coos, and Marc can’t help but preen a bit at that.

Hank’s touch continues to tease his length for a few more moments, before those fingertips change to explore his inner thighs, making their way up to his ass. The black plug he’d put in earlier that day was still there, keeping him open and slick. “And you kept yourself ready for me, all day? What a good little slut for me you are,” Hank praises.

Marc keens at the words. It turns into a moan when Hank gently withdraws the plug, leaving Marc even more exposed than before. It’s only one of his medium ones, which leaves him still a bit of stretch when Hank starts to tug at his rim.

Three fingers slip in to explore, spreading him wider and deeper than the plug had. When they brush against his prostate, Marc whimpers, his cock leaking precum freely down to the sheets below. “Please, fuck me, I-I’ve been so good…” he begs, knowing that he’s so close to getting what he wants.

Hank smacks his ass twice, once on each cheek, and he moans at the rougher treatment. Then there’s a blunt pressure at his entrance and then finally, _finally,_ he’s being filled. It’s been too long, the season having picked up significantly as they fought and scrambled for a wildcard spot, which still wasn’t secure, and all the rest of the games were in back to backs in this month. Add in Hank’s injury, and they’d hardly had the time to get what they really needed. Toys and fingers just weren’t the same, even if Hank was the one using them on him.

Marc doesn’t realize he’s been whimpering until Hank pulls him up by the shoulder, so he’s more or less sitting on Hank’s lap. This drives his cock even deeper, and Marc has to fight not to touch himself at the feeling.

“Did you miss this, älskling?” Hank murmurs, running his hands up Marc’s sides. He brushes the defenseman’s nipples, and Marc nods, letting his head fall back a bit. As expected, Hank begins to mouth and bite at his neck, marking up the pale, freckled skin.

He twists his nipple sharply, and Marc gasps at the feeling. “I asked you a question,” Hank warns against his skin.

“Y-yes, Daddy, so much,” he moans, squeezing down and reveling in the feeling of being full.

Hank slides his hand down Marc’s body until he has his dick in his hand. He squeezes teasingly, before stroking him, twisting his hand at the top just the way he knows Marc likes.

“That’s a good boy, love, a very good boy. Think you could come just like this? Sitting on your Daddy’s lap?”

Marc’s cock jerks in Hank’s hand, and he tries to rock his hips, tries to ride Hank. Firm arms keep him still, pinned against Hank’s chest, and he knows he’s stuck again, doing what Hank wants. It feels so good, though, and his orgasm is approaching, but he doesn’t want to come without being really, truly fucked.

Hank doesn’t seem to share the same worries, taking his time teasing Marc’s nipples and cock, marking up his neck and shoulder with bite marks and bruises. He wanted to be wrecked, and he doesn’t want to come just yet, but Hank isn’t going easy on him.

He knows he’s whining, and when he blinks a few tears fall. Hank reaches up to brush them away, mumuring in Marc’s ear, “Are you close already, love?”

Marc nods, his distress rising. He tries to move, tries to shift out of Hank’s grip, but he doesn’t have enough purchase. And Hank, of course he gets off on it, leaning in to whisper, “Come for me, Marc. Come for Daddy.”

Marc spills over Hank’s hand, gasping and groaning through his orgasm. He clenches down around Hank’s length, and wishes more than anything for Hank to just fucking _move._

Instead, he gets offered a handful of his own cum, which he licks up, his tears still running down his face. Hank continues to shush him, and he doesn’t know how to handle the conflicting needs within him.

It’s only once Hank’s hand is clean that he’s pushed back down to the bed, and Hank slides out. Now, completely empty, Marc can barely hold back a sob. His fingers clench in the bed sheets, as he tries so hard not to reach out for Hank.

Soon enough, he’s pushed over on his back, and Hank captures his mouth in a kiss. He breaks the rules when he wraps his arms and legs around him, but he doesn’t care. He licks into Hank’s mouth, rocking his hips up against Hank’s still hard cock. He _wants_ that, so bad it hurts.

Hank moans into the kiss, and Marc clumsily reaches between them, taking Hank’s cock in hand.

“Please, Daddy, want you to fuck me, I know I just came but I’m greedy, Daddy, so greedy for your cock, please give it to me, haven’t I been good for you Daddy?” The words tumble out of his mouth in a desperate attempt to get Hank to fuck him.

Hank pulls back and grabs Marc’s wrists to pin them above Marc’s head. “You want Daddy to fuck you? Even after you’ve come already? Such a greedy little slut, but you already knew that, didn’t you?” he murmurs. He gathers Marc’s wrists in one hand, the other reaching down to guide himself into Marc.

Marc’s back arches when Hank bottoms out inside him, the feeling almost good but not enough, not after the trick from before. “Daddy, please, _move,_ ” he begs, his voice cracking on the last word.

That seems to be the last straw, because Hank’s pulling out and then slamming back in again, setting a rough and deep rhythm between them. Marc, already oversensitive from his orgasm, just lets himself go, feeling Hank inside him, where he’s wanted him to be this whole time.

Blood rushes in his ears the first time Hank hits his prostate, and he can’t help jerking a little bit. Of course, that only makes Hank adjust his angle so he hits him right there, every time. Without meaning to, Marc starts to get hard again from the assault inside.

“Daddy, daddy, _daddy,_ fuck, _please!_ ” He doesn’t know what he’s begging for, and when Hank takes his mouth in a bruising kiss, he only fucks him harder.

The harsher rhythm makes his toes curl, all the desperation from before compounding together inside him, getting hotter and hotter with every movement. When Hank begins to falter, Marc knows he’s close, and squeezes down around him, coaxing him along.

Marc feels it when Hank bottoms out, releasing inside him. It’s wet and warm and _claiming,_ and Marc breathes a shaky sigh when he feels it. Hank pulls out slowly, and Marc traces his gaze down between his thighs, knowing he’s just watching the cum dribble out. He catches a bit of it with his tip and pushes it back inside, making sure Marc has every last drop.

Marc’s still aching for an orgasm, but right now he’s content, Hank slowly fucking his cum back inside of him. The ginger groans, resting his head back on the pillow, more than happy to let Hank use him like this.

Hank, for his part, leans up next to Marc’s ear, sweeping some of the unruly longer strands away. “Did that feel nice, Daddy coming inside you? Do you like getting fucked by your Daddy?” he murmurs, his fingers trailing down Marc’s chest and stomach, down to his hard cock.

He grasps him and starts to stroke him gently, his thumb rubbing over the tip. He’s not teasing, but pulling out all the stops now, wanting to get Marc to the edge. “Because I truly do love fucking you, älskling. Such a tight little slut, all for me. And you love it, don’t you?”

Marc nods, his eyes fluttering shut at the words. He doesn’t move his hips, knowing Hank will give him what he needs. “Love it when Daddy fucks me…’specially love it when he comes in me,” he murmurs, gasping when he feels Hank’s lips brushing against his ear.

“Be a good boy and come for me, love.”

The warm whisper against his ear pushes him over the edge, a lazy orgasm that makes his hips rock up into Hank’s grip, his cock shooting cum against his own stomach. Hank keeps stroking him until it’s too much, and he whines, reaching down and pushing Hank’s hand away.

There’s a gentle kiss pressed to his temple, and then Hank’s pulling out, swiftly replacing himself with the plug from earlier. More lube had been added, but now Marc feels even more pleased, knowing that he gets to keep this little bit of Hank with him.

The bed shifts, and a few moments later there’s a warm washcloth cleaning off his stomach and chest, and even down around the plug. Then the duvet is stripped from the bed – Marc has to move a bit to help that one along – and then he’s gathered up into Hank’s arms.

“I missed this,” he mumbles, the first time he’d spoken in a while. His voice is still a bit rough, and Hank sits them both up before handing Marc a water bottle from the side table.

“I missed it too, älskling,” Henrik murmurs as Marc drinks. Both the words and the water are refreshing, and Marc nuzzles in closer once he’s finished. “How was it?”

“Fucking great, Henke. I’m gonna be feeling it tomorrow,” he replies. That ache, that soreness, all markers of a good time. It’s something that he wants to keep with him, even though it does get in the way of hockey at times.

Hank doesn’t point that out, just runs his fingers through Marc’s hair. “You should probably get a haircut,” he muses, fingers twisting some of the ends.

“Probably, yeah.” Marc doesn’t say anything else about the hair, instead content to let Hank play with it.

A few moments pass by in relative silence, before Hank murmurs, “They think I can play on Sunday. Against the Ducks.”

Marc opens his eyes, and sits up a bit to look at Hank. There’s no jest in his expression, just honest belief that he will be able to play. Just having him back at practice was a positive change, but to have him playing so soon? That was a gift he didn’t think he would get so soon.

He smiles, disbelief still evident on his face. “Really? You’re gonna start for us again? Cuz I know Antti has been doing a great job but it’s just not the same, Henke.”  

“And here I thought you liked having the freedom before games to do whatever you wanted,” Hank lightly teases.

Marc sits up to kiss him gently. “Of course not. How am I supposed to do my routine without you yelling at me?”

Hank hums and returns the kiss. “Well then if that’s what this is about I guess I need to get back right away.”

“You do always give me what I need,” Marc hums, before shimmying back down beneath the covers. “And right now I need sleep. So get down here.”

Hank rolls his eyes, but does as asked, tugging Marc close. He lets him nuzzle in against his shoulder, just as he likes, before he returns his hand to Marc’s hair. Slowly, the two of them fade away to sleep, each wrapped in the comfort of each other.  

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so this is my first time writing porn in a while so apologies if it's rough as hell - follow me on [tumblr](http://eddieluongo.tumblr.com/) if you wanna talk about it a lil more


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